pencil2ofandomcom-20200215-history
He Works Hard for the Money
Sunday, November 10, 2013 * : Alright, I've got my bag, suit and a typewriter I've borrowed. * : Why on earth d'ye need all thet? You're jus' startin' at an introduct'ry meetin'. * : I have to make a good impression. Dad picked this one just for me! * : The suit does fit'ee. Totally got the joie de vivre. * : No, it doesn't. * : Oi, you should be thankful fer yer father. Eraser's in the shady business an' Match ain' 'is daughter. * : Eh, no pressure, please! * : Oh, you'll do fine, m8. Jus' get some sleep. * : How am I supposed to sleep with all this sudden pressure from the pencil gallery? * : You fought in a war, got ter a considerable rank an' you're scared fer yer firs' permanent job? P'r'aps this will change yer mind. [Pencil playfully nudges him, removes her lapel and turns off the lights.] Monday, November 11 * : Ew, I hate Mondays! * : Who doesn't? [Enter Yaretzi from her room.] * : I am so ready for school today! *'The others': [half-hearted] Yay... [Pencil goes downstairs, followed by Pen in his business suit. She takes pictures of him as he descends.] * : Moja, mbili, tatu , strike yer pose! * : Woah, Dad, you're rocking that suburban wage slave look. * : Is that how I look? * : No, she's jus' kiddin'. She h'ain' a fashion critic like some people. * : I wasn't going to say anything. * : She follows the philosophy of "If you don't have anything nice to say". * : Y'know, thanks for the support. * : That suit really fits you, Dad. It's, like, totally joie de vivre. * : 'A! Told'ee! * : When are you going? * : Right now. See you all later, I'll be in the drive so you'll know I'm home. [A. R. I. of goodbye. Exit.] * : 'E didn' look thet bad, did 'e? * : No, we were just playing. * : They never take fashion seriously! Mum, he looked like he was going to explode. * : Oi, thet wasn' nice! But 'e did look so, di'n'e? * : Yeah! * : Where's yer brother? * : CHAVOOOOOO! * : I'm coming! [He hurries down.] * : You're always upstairs a li'l too long. Wot if one day, you'll make us all late fer school? * : I would just love that. * : I... but... wow. * : This must be it. [He gets out of the car for valet parking and the doorman opens the door for him.] * : Thank you, sir. [Inside the formal building, Pen makes his way towards a secretary.] * : An 800 appointment, please? * : Good morning, sir, you must be the new trainee. Please have a seat whilst I formally beckon for your supervisor. * : Supervisor? * : YO, INFOSYM, SOME GUY JUST CAME AND HE'S SEEKING YOU! [to Pen] Wait here. [Several hours later. Infosym comes through the other door.] * : Hello, all. * : Good morning, Mr. Infosym. It is a wonder seeing you here. * : I am looking for a General P. D. Schreiber? * : Hi, that's me. [He bows ceremoniously, for Infosym has neither arms nor legs.] * : Let me take me on a tour, and then you may choose which career you would like. * : I am allowed to choose? * : Here at our company, you are entitled to more freedom than the average worker. How does that sound? * : Amazing, sir, though I must add that some of our neighbours are poorer than us. * : This which brings us to our first stop: Room #1, our Poverty Centre. [He takes him through the various rooms of the building.] * : And here are the rooms representing diplomatic relations with the countries for which we have no buildings: Our mission to Afghanistan, our mission to Albania, our mission to Andorra, our mission to Antigua and Barbuda... [A few minutes later.] * : Our mission to Uzbekistan, our mission to Vanuatu and finally, our mission to Vietnam. That's the end of our tour. * : Wait, please! Is there any other job I can take? * : Now that is the kind of potential that I would like to see from our workers. Come with me. * : Welcome... to the super secret room. * : Has it got a fancy name? * : Yes. The super secret room. Here you may find the most lucrative job of all, but you will only know if you want to choose this. * : If curiosity de-inked the... I suppose I should have to take the job here, shouldn't I? * : Are you sure? * : Yes, right-o. The embassies of Greece and Canada have already been taken. * : Then I shall tell you the purpose of this room. [Pause.] * : [rapidly] So here's the thing in a few words, you want to hear it in a few words? Here it is: We find places on the Internet that the majority deem unsafe or dangerous towards society; we shut them down. Here's how it do it in a few words, not like you'll hear them in a few words, let me explain the process in many words: We find a website that has been reported by private investigators, run a background check on the website, its intentions and its authors, take up an interview using stealthy location technology to understand their intentions and through a process of conditioning, we decide whether that person is deemed innocent or guilty and if so, we turn him into the police. You get it? * : Ye * : Of course you do, you signed up for this job. I need you to listen to me upon this topic, Pen, and I need you to hear it well. * : Yes, sir? * : The details of your job are to remain strictly confidentional; you can not reveal what you do to anybody in the world. * : Not even my wife or my children? * : How do you know that they are not spies who have been captivated by you? * : I do have that effect... Alright, I'll say nothing. * : Then welcome to our diplomatic team! * : It's an honour, sir. * : Do you have any questions that I may answer? * : Why haven't you done a formal job interview? * : Two reasons: First, your father, a very powerful man in the industry, has consulted with the embassy and bought you a spot. The second reason's in you. You have served this country for multiple years and became a general. You are basically impenetrable. It also makes you over-qualified for the job, and I had no choice but to give it to you. * : [thinking] I feel so cheated! [aloud] Thank you! [He heads in the direction of the lobby.] * : Where do you think you're going? * : I'm going back to the valet to get my car back. * : No, that won't be necessary. Take the Vent! * : The Vent? * : As in, vent-i hundred times faster. Normally this thing would take you through the ancient submarine telegraph cables, but since we no longer use telegraphs, it is used for the transport of our businessfolk. * : How do I use it? * : [opening an invisible hole in the ground] Jump right in! * : There isn't anything special to do [Infosym pushes him down the tubes.] * : Another thing, Schreiber, your shift starts Wednesday! * : Kids, yer dad's comin' 'ome any minute! * : I can't wait to see his reaction. * : I want to see what happens! * : This will be fun! * : His car is here. [View of outside. Somebody else (the valet guy) gets out.] * : That's not Dad! * : Avi, what's this mean? * : Yer brother's in the loo, checkin' fer Germans. * : Checking for germs. * : More soap? Yeah. [Suddenly, Pen comes out of the drain in the bathtub.] * : [thinking] Same curtain, same yellowing of the walls... Could this be my house? * : ♫ Cleaning's my life and when I'm feeling down... ♫ * : That's my son. [He opens the bath curtain.] * : Hey, 's there any chance I * : I GET AROUND! * : Avi! * : Dad? How did you get here? * : Oh, it's an elaborate system called never mind, I can't tell you. * : Okay. * : [Aside.] That was easy. * : Hey, everybody, you don't have to look out the window! [A. R. I.] * : Dad's here! He won't tell me anything about his work, though. [Enter Pen.] * : Me captain's returned from the sea! * : Dad... you got here up there? * : What did you do, descend from the heavens? * : No, it was... * : 'Ow was yer very first day? * : This is going to sound really weird, but I am legally not allowed to tell anybody anything about my job. * : Come on. * : He just wants to make Mum jealous. * : [from upstairs] Because he's got a job! * : Sasa kids, I'm 99% sure yer father's bein' serious. 'E don' wan' to tell anybody h'anythin'. * : So I got out of my room for nothing? * : I'm going back. [A. R. I. of agreement. At this point, Pencil and Pen are alone in the room.] * : [her attitude having suddenly changed] I know you're 'idin' somethin', 'n' I know why you h'ain' a-sayin'e. * : So you are a spy! * : Wot's'ee talkin' o'? You're actin' like when you found those people in yer family ter've been part o' the Greek Mafia! * : This is different. [Enter Yaretzi and Zorah, cautiously.] * : 'Ello, we weren't arguin'. * : Daddy, if you can't say anything about your job... [She breathes in deeply.] * : Wot's'e? * : It will really put a damper on Career Week tomorrow. * : Career Week? * : Yeah! It's when all the parents go to our class and talk about what they do when we're in school. Mrs. Chembe told us after the minutes of silence. * : This is the first year this family has an actual working parent! * : That's really sweet, but I don't think I should * : Should we turn to Creepy Mode? * : One little switch... * : Okay! I'll do it. But I'll have to make something up. [Enter Citlali, who had been listening the whole time.] * : Like last year, when I said you were on holiday in Fiji? * | }}: Right... Tuesday, November 12 * : Ew, I hate Tuesdays! * : Who doesn't? * : Oh, stop it. * : Good news! Dad's taking us to school today! * : I should have slept longer. * : Thank you, Mr. Sazonov, for saying the dangers of running a symphony orchestra. *'Kids': ASANTE! * : And now, please welcome Mr. Schreiber to our classroom. *'Kids': KARIBU! * : I was his professor many, many years ago, when he was in high school. * : Well, it was only about five years ago. But thank you for having me! *'Kids': ASANTE! * : Yaretzi, Zorah, would you please introduce your father and his career? * : Yeah! [They get up on the chairs.] * : This is our dad. We don't know what he does because he got his job yesterday. * : Oh, how lovely. * : I think he's just scared. But he will tell us, because he has all of these eyes looking at him. * : Yes, that's right. [to Mrs. Chembe] Kids, eh? * : If you would like, please tell the class what you do. [Pen has flashbacks to yesterday.] : : You cannot reveal what you do to anybody. : : Should we turn to Creepy Mode? : : Last year, when I said you were on holiday in Fiji... [At school.] * : If I must... I work at the Embassy. [sees one of the kids with a raised hand] Yes? * : What's an embassy? * : It's where people go when they come to Kenya from other countries whenever they need help. *'Kids': Ooh! * : Do you help us foreign children with our homework? * : No, it is more diplomatic. [Everybody in the class raises their hand/foot.] * : That means... something complicated. * : Presently, for which country are you carrying diplomatic work? *'Kids': Nerd! [Everybody throws crumpled up paper at him.] * : Morons! [He throws the papers back at them.] * : You're running a crazy house, eh, Mrs. C? * : [to the kids] Pay attention, wanafunzi! * : I work for many countries. In fact, yesterday I was in the office of our Kenyan mission to Afghanistan, Albania, Andorra, Antigua and Barbuda * : Mr. Schreiber, let me stop you here: I think I know exactly the name for what you do. * : It's not being in the Greek mob, is it? * : No. The name for your job is an ambassador. Class, repeat in Kiswahili, tafadhali : Balozi. Ba-lo-zi! *'Kids': BALOZI! [They laugh at their own repetition.] * : Wot d'ye think o' the dusted counter, Cil? * : Goo! [Enter Match.] * : Penc-penc-penc-penc-penc! * : Match, wot a... pleasant surprise? * : I need your, like, help. * : Wot's'e now? With me husband out o' th' 'ouse, I can 'ave me own party! * : Omg, did you kick him out? * : Why'd I do thet? * : Because that's what I'd like to do to Eraser right, like, now. * : Wot? Take a seat an' tell me; h'I've got all the day! * : So Eraser has this new girlfriend he met at the club. She's from Turkestangolia. * : Nice, interestin'... * : And I think he likes her because she's all, like, exotic and, like, . * : Girl, I bet she's come from Eas' Nairobi. * : Like, what makes you, like, say that? * : "Turkestangolier" ain' a real country! [Beat.] * : Oh. But I'm still mad that he told her his favourite colour before he told me. Fluorescent magenta? Really? He could just say, like, "pink". * : I'd love to pay'ee respects, but Pen's been 'idin' things from me too. * : Oh no, like, like what? * : Thet 'e's a new job an' won' tell me wot 'e does. * : You mean like, like, the Greek m * : N' o' course not! But until I'm convinced I know thet 'e h'absolutely can't tell us wot's'e doin', I won' rest a night lyin' next ter'im. * : Oof. [Enter Pen with the kids.] * : And she said, "Balozi, Ba-lo-zi" and we were like, "BALOZI"! * : Dad, you're my favourite ambassador. * : Oh, it was nothing. [They der Match and Pencil staring at them.] * : Hey... Match. *'Kids': Sup, girlfriend? [They snap their fingers in a Z-formation.] * : Omg, you remembered! Doing fine, sunshine! [She snaps her fingers in a circle.] * : Oy vey... * : I need to go upstairs. * : Right behind you! [Exeunt.] * : Pen, wot's all this talk o' balozi? * : "Balozi" is Swahili for ambassador. * : I totally knew thet. You means to says you told the class thet you're a h'ambassador? * : Hambassador? That's not kosher! * : Well, I can say that I do work at an embassy, and there isn't anything wrong with that, is there? * : I guess not. [Pen says nothing but looks off into space.] * : You're doin' thet thing again. * : What thing? * : You're 'avin' a talk in yer 'ead o'er wot you're gehn' to do next, an' then you'll do somethin' thet'll end up badly later. * : I'm not doing that! Now excuse me while I go to work. * : Take yer suit with'ee! [Citlali opens the door in the girl's' room.] * : But I'm still ironing it. * : Throw'e. [She throws it out the door.] * : Bye! [Exit.] * : I'll ne'er truly h'understand thet man. * : And I'll never understand mine, either. * : Those Schreibers a' got a lot goin' on. [There is a cry from upstairs.] * : DON'T UNPLUG IT! * : I don't care; I'll throw the battery in the bushes if I have to! [Pencil goes upstairs and sees an unplugged computer.] * : Wot'n'ale's goin' on up 'ere? An' where are yer other brothers? * : [from the parents' room] We're in here! * : Away from the drama! * : Mum, I saw Chavo on * : Don't say it! [Pencil plugs in the computer, turns it on and reads the content.] * : [shocked] No...Before you think it is what you think it means, * : Welcome, Mr. guy from yesterday. You're here more than a couple seconds early. * : Is Mr. Infosym here? [Infosym appears out of the drain in the centre of the room.] * : Evening, Schreiber. Nice to see you here. * : How have you come so fast? * : I'm taking the Entvay to Abocay Ansay Ucaslay. * : Listen, I need a favour. * : So do I. Rios has quit. * : I'm sorry? * : He was the worker for the uper-say ecret-say oom-ray. It is your job to take down your first alicious-may eb-way-ite-say. * : But * : Thank you, I shall be back as soon as I'm done surrounding myself with sand. You're the best! [Exit Infosym.] * : So... that super secret room? * : How did you know? *'Door': Enter new password. * : Alright. [thinking] "SSCJYZXSQC". Got to have the kids. "+pencil". [The lights turn on, and Pen sees an array of computers.] * : Okay... just one time, and then I get my discharge. [He clicks on a screen where all of the website's viewers come from.] * : Huh. One of them's coming from our area... our neighbourhood... our house? [to the computer] Come on, baby, where's this thing coming from? Cotonou, Benin, eh? Nothing a little Vent-ing can't handle. * : Wot you did was jus' terrible, an' I've jus' ter ask... Why... why'n earth would'ee do thet... * : It is heinous! Heinous, I say! * : Avi, 'e jus' deserves to be shamed by jus' one; 'twan' as if 'e was doin'e h'as well. * : Sorry. * : Wot you're doin', kid, is terrible an' ne'er to be repeated in this 'ouse! [Meanwhile, by the stairs, the other kids are eavesdropping.] * : What's going on? * : Oh, the usual. Your twin getting yelled at. * : Er, it's my room! * : Our room. * : Let's go in! [Enter the other kids, led by Sio.] * : Mum, are you okay? * : Aye, doin' fine. Somebody jus' got in trouble fer. * : Are we allowed to know? * : Aye... let this be h'a lesson fer all o' ye. * : Our brother has been watching videos of people being killed! [A. R. I. of shock.] * : I'm not meant to know that stuff! * : I said I was sorry! * : You says you're sorry fer not bein' a part o' this! Thet's why 'e's been in 'is room the longes' fer such a long time! * : Why don't we go and see what he's been looking at? * : Don' tell me you know 'bout this thing too, eh? * : Mum, I've stopped watching that stuff a long time ago. I have my boundaries. * : Well, Chavo ha'n' any. Boy, walk me through yer website so h'I can block this once an' fer all! * : Okay, I've got it bookmarked. [He clicks the link, but a message appears in English and Kiswahili: "This website is no longer available."] * : That's funny, it always works! * : I'd usually say, "I told you so" I told you so! * : Alright, child, I'm sure you've learned yer lesson. An' thet is? * : Don't go on those websites again. * : Correct. * : This whole thing has given me the creeps. I'm going to the toilet. * : Have fun! * : ♫ Me lavo mi cara en la mañana p'ra enjuagar el polvo de la noche. ♫ [Pen appears out of the shower drain again.] * : FUN, FUN, FUN! * : Avi, why's it that I always find you here? * : I have no idea. [Enter Pencil.] * : An' me lovin' 'usband's returned. I've f'r'ee some questions. * : So have I, like, which one of you have been using the Internet lately? * : Mos' of us; it's a valuable tool. * : How about this one: "Visages of Mort"-dot-B-J? * : Chavo! Prithay get in 'ere! * : It's all right, I'll get out and... [seeing himself covered in water] ... clean myself up. * : Your mother has told me what's happened. You've been scolded at enough. * : Alright, thanks Pen! * : But you shall be banned from the Internet for 48 hours. * : It's "you will"! * : I have learned my lesson! [He goes upstairs.] * : D'ye think 'e has? * : No. * : I thought I'd 'ad one question the moment you'd arrived, but now I've another: 'Ow d'ye h'e'en know thet 'twas us 'o's on thet website? * : I'm really not meant to say. * : Come on, do... [She holds on to him.] * : Fer me? * : Alright. [pause] I've just been hired... to work at a company that deals with the Internet and... closing harmful websites. * : Omg, thet's so h'interestin'! KIDS, YER FATHER'S GOT SOME NEWS! [Intrant omnes.] * : What's going on? * : I heard our mummy calling. * : Yer father ain' the h'ambassador you thought 'e was. * : You're not an ambassador? * : Aww! * : Then, what are you? * : I'm really not supposed to say that, but... * : 'E's a fighter of 'armful websites! * : You're a fighter? All right! * : Eh... Wednesday, November 13 * | }}: You're up early. * : I ne'er saw'ee change! * : I did after you fell alseep. * : Oh aye. Should 'a'e known when I's dreamin' o' linen. Egg? * : Thanks, but I've got to go. My first official stuff starts today. [She throws the chocolate egg at him.] * : [off-screen] Ow! * : 'A'e fun! * : I wi'! [They kiss good-bye. Exit.] * : Morning! * : INFOSYM! [Enter Infosym, dressed as if he were still on holiday.] * : ¡Buenos días a todos! * : Ready for action, Infosym, sir! * : Oh, you're up early. [They start walking towards the secret room.] * : That's funny; my wife said the same thing, although I suppose it makes sense here too considering where we are. [View of the embassy's being on the top of a hill.] * : You will feel such an honour to become a full-time member of the earth's most secretive organisation. Welcome aboard! * : So, is there anything new? * : [dimming the lights] We've... received a report. There was an incident yesterday. * : It was me, sir. * : Pardon? * : I told my family about my secret job title; please don't be cross! [Suddenly, Infosym's face disappears. He makes computer-like beeping noises and text emanates from his corner in a text bubble.] * : [reading] "You're fired." [A beeping sound.] * : "Return all of your possessions and we shall donate them to charity." That doesn't sound bad, does it? [Another beeping sound.] * : "This charity will help privileged children become more privileged." Well, which privileged kids? [He starts to empty his pockets, revealing the chocolate egg that Pencil had given him. Infosym's face returns.] * : Is that a chocolate egg? I've never had them before! * : [thinking] If you give me my job back, I'll tell you where my wife buys this. * : I can not take your bribe... in an official sense. * : Sorry, I come from a lineage of people who do that sort of thing and the whole instincts' taking over... and that ends now. * : I'm sorry, but you have disgraced the confidentiality of this job. * : Why can't I tell other people about what I do? I feel like I've been living a double life, and that doesn't seem right for my kids! * : The truth is... we, and that's the exclusive "we", mind you, don't want outsiders to know about this job... because it might give us shame. It's embarrassing in knowledge that we are censoring the Internet. * : What's so embarrassing about that? My father takes pride in firing people every day! Do you think he's happy about that? And you might not know this, but I've got ten kids. * : Said the man who keeps saying "my kids", "my kids". * : I happened to take down a website that was a danger to my already violent son. If trying to keep the people in my family safe is such a shameful thing, then I must be the most gosh-darned ashamed person in the world! [Infosym thinks for a moment.] * : You're back in. * : Okay, I'll pack and... wait, what? * : You've got the job back! I have amended the rules of this company, so that all dangers resulting in such confidentiality breaches rest upon the employee's family. * : Eh? * : Responsible for your actions you are. * |'Kids'}}}}: Alright! [Pen quickly turns around.] * : Where did you come from? * : Kenya. * : I'm assuming you must be this man's family. Please rest assured, he has kept his job. * : Oh, thanks'ee so much! * : How'd you all get here? * : We walked. * : Well, the kids 'a'e got an 'oliday. * : They cancelled Career Week, and then they cancelled school. * : Half of the parents got sacked! Category:Episodes Category:New episodes